The World Loves a Tragic Story
by TheArchives
Summary: Oneshot, AU, crack. The world might enjoy tragic stories best, but personally Kisame preferred happy endings. Mild KisaIta.


**The World Loves a Tragic Story  
**By: Clever Audrey  
Pairings: Kisame/Itachi, mentions of (past) Kisame/Deidara and Zetsu/Deidara  
Warnings: AU, crack, messing with canon relationships. Historical accuracy is _zero_.  
AN: This was written for a prompt/challenge by **unimara** over on **akatsukilove** on livejournal. I have no excuse for it, other than the fact that I seem to like crack AU stories. XD Enjoy!

* * *

The world loves a tragic story.

This was the only explanation Kisame could come up with for his sudden popularity at court; sympathy, or pity, or (he suspected) just the desire for "inside" knowledge of the whole affair.

The most ironic part, of course, was that it wasn't really all that tragic. The affair had been just that – an affair, and though Kisame would certainly admit that his lover suddenly abandoning him for another hurt, but it wasn't as though he'd never get over it. He was just feeling a bit…sore. It had only been a week, after all.

Actually, he was beginning to find his new-found popularity rather amusing. All the ladies (and a few of the other knights) who had so pointedly ignored him before were suddenly all willing to speak with him and offer their "condolences." He certainly wasn't what was considered handsome (something he knew and that rarely bothered him), he was a foreigner, and while he was a good knight, he wasn't the absolute best – so before there hadn't been any real reason for anyone to pay attention to him.

Of course, a six-month affair with the court artist was bound to attract attention, if only because _everything_ involved with that particular individual attracted attention; Deidara was not a reserved man by nature.

"S-Sir Hoshigaki, are y-you f-feeling well?"

Kisame blinked and turned his attention to the small, dark-haired lady who had approached him. Pale eyes meant a Hyuuga, close cousins of the royal family, and this one was…

"Thank you for your worry, Lady Hinata, but I am well. I was merely thinking." If anyone's concern was genuine, it was hers, if only because she was kind-hearted enough to care about almost everyone at court at least a little bit.

"Oh. I s-see. I'm g-glad. H-He didn't m-mean to h-hurt you, y-you know." She gave him a tentative smile, and he returned it gently, taking care to not show off his sharp teeth.

"I know, Lady. It happens. I'll be fine in awhile."

"Good," she said, sounding more sure, and gave him a slight curtsy before sweeping off at her older brother's call. Kisame bowed deeply to her, both for her concern and to avoid giving any offense while her elder brother, Lord Neji, was watching so closely.

He sighed and went back to staring into space. He wasn't terribly fond of these parties, but they were required attendance for all king's knights. He was on pseudo-guard duty, at least, so he wasn't required to mingle.

He got a passing nod from Lord Sasori, his immediate superior, and bowed in return. Sasori hadn't been too sure of his affair with Deidara from the get-go, but had the grace to refrain from "I-told-you-so's." It hadn't really gotten in the way of Kisame's fighting performance, even now after the break-up, so there was nothing for Sasori to criticize. Kisame meant to keep it that way. He respected the older man, but did not particularly like him.

"Sir! Sir!"

Kisame sighed again as his squire came to a skidding halt in front of him. Naruto was going to be an excellent knight – if he could learn to tame his exuberance.

"Squire, parties in His Majesty's hall are not the place for running. Or shouting." Kisame said sternly.

"Oh, sorry!" Naruto straightened, and then went on with an unusually serious face. "Sir, I've come to get your permission to duel."

"What? Why on earth would you be dueling with anyone?"

"Well, you see, Kankurou was insulting you, Sir, and I told him to keep his asinine opinions to himself, and he wanted to know if I was man enough to stand up for you properly and I told him of course I was! So he challenged me to a duel and I accepted and he went off to Sour-face to ask permission for a duel and I came to ask you!"

Kisame often found himself short of breath when listening to his squire even though he wasn't the one doing the talking. "The tanning Lord Sasori will give you if he hears you calling him that isn't even worth thinking about. And do you even know what 'asinine' means?"

"That's why I don't let him hear me. And of course I know what it means! Wouldn't use it otherwise. It means 'utterly stupid or silly.'" The blond grinned widely. "Count Jiraiya told it to me, and I've been waiting for a chance to use it!"

Kisame ran a hand through his short blue hair and prayed that he wasn't about to have a headache.

"All right, so Squire Kankurou spoke badly of me, and you decided that dueling was a good idea…why?"

"Because I can beat him," Naruto insisted, abruptly switching from mischievous to completely serious. "You've taught me well, Sir, and you're one of the best swordsmen here, even better than Sir Kakashi."

"You're still several years from being a full knight-"

"And so is Kankurou! _Please_, Sir?"

Damn it. Kisame had no idea where Naruto had learned to do the "kicked-puppy" look, but it worked every time. He sighed resignedly.

"Fine. If Lord Sasori gives Squire Kankurou permission as well. You will use wooden practice swords, have seconds and a judge nearby, and follow all the proper procedures."

"Yes, Sir! Of course, Sir! I'll beat him, don't you worry!"

"You might, at that. What did he say to get you so riled up, though? It's hardly the first time someone has spoken ill of me."

Naruto went quiet, and Kisame knew immediately that it had something to do with his affair with Deidara. For all his lack of tact, Naruto knew that that particular wound was still rather fresh.

"All right, you don't have to tell me. Just try and do your mentor justice, all right?"

"Sir!" Naruto saluted him briskly, grinning again, and scampered off.

"Brat," Kisame muttered affectionately. "If you don't get yourself killed from annoying someone, you'll do well, even with me as your knight-trainer."

He went back to standing at attention in front of one of the great columns that lined the hall, and things were quiet for a few minutes after that. Quiet…until a bright, cheery voice rang through the hall from a side door.

"-don't know what I'd have done without you, hm! That herb makes the _best_ green I've ever had, and Duke Gai's portrait wouldn't be the same without it-"

Kisame couldn't help a slight wince of hurt, especially when the brightly-clothed artist was quite obviously attended by his new lover. Sir Zetsu, the youngest son of one of the smaller noble families, was not much of a warrior, but his forestry work had been good enough to earn him a knighthood and a recent position in the King's court.

He also had gold eyes and green hair, making him the second (at least) on the artist's list of "odd-looking lovers." Kisame sighed, and was glad when the somewhat mismatched pair (Zetsu was very quiet, and usually quite shy) stayed well away from the side of the hall this was on. He could only suppose that Deidara felt at least that much for him – normally causing 'scenes' was one of the artist's favorite past-times; he claimed that it inspired him.

He knew that they weren't flaunting it in his face. He knew that neither of them bore him any ill-will. He knew that Zetsu had won the artist's attentions quite fairly. He knew that Deidara had cared enough to at least break it off with him before actually becoming Zetsu's lover, instead of going behind his back. He knew all that.

And he also knew that it still hurt. He suddenly found himself wishing rather hard for an excuse to leave.

"Sir Hoshigaki?"

He almost jumped at the low, smooth voice that spoke from the shadows behind him. Turning, he found a man with long, dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in black and red, standing there watching him intently.

"Your Highness? How may I serve you?"

Crown Prince Itachi let his dark eyes sweep the rest of the hall, then turned back to the blue-haired knight. "I would ask your assistance for a little while, if your presence here is not required."

"It shouldn't be. Let me inform Lord Sasori, though."

The prince nodded elegantly, and Kisame hurried through the crowd to find his superior.

"His Highness requires my assistance," he said as soon as he got to the other man. "Do you need me here for anything?"

"No," Sasori said, after a brief moment of thought. "Go ahead. Though you are to come back, if the party is still going on."

"Of course, my lord." Kisame bowed and hurried back to the shadows of the pillar where Prince Itachi waited patiently, unable to shake the odd feeling that those dark eyes had not once left him.

"I'm free, Your Highness," he bowed, and the shorter man nodded, beckoning.

"Then come with me."

Kisame followed the dark-eyed man, grateful to get out of the hall and wondering what this was about.

Following the old king's death six years ago, his eldest son Sasuke had taken the throne. Since His Majesty had yet to have any sons of his own, the title of Crown Prince fell to his brother, Itachi.

Not much was known about him: he was very quiet, and though it was common enough to see him around the castle, he talked so infrequently that it seemed as though he was never there. He was intelligent, an excellent fighter, and (it was whispered) a sorcerer of not-insignificant power.

While being a sorcerer was not necessarily a bad thing…well, it was not well understood, and that tended to make people wary of it. And since "sorcerer" was not necessarily a flattering label (and sometimes quite the opposite) people were careful about using it to refer to the King's brother.

But, in short, nothing that helped Kisame speculate on what this might be about. He couldn't remember ever speaking to the prince before now, beyond the required courtesies if they happened to pass during court functions or in the halls.

Itachi led him out of the main hall, through a side door, up a staircase, down a long hall, up another, spiral staircase, and down another short hall to a door at the end.

The suite this door opened onto was furnished with sparse elegance. The prince was obviously not a collector of things, and seemed to prefer quality over quantity. The first room, a sitting room of sorts, held two burgundy velvet chairs near the large fireplace (which was burning merrily), a low, burgundy-colored couch, a couple of footstools, carved tables, and several rich rugs woven with intricate, colorful designs. Tapestries adorned the bare stone walls, and many of them seemed to be scenes out of various legends, quite masterfully done. In between the tapestries were bookshelves packed full with scrolls and beautiful, leather-bound books.

The prince continued right on through this room, however, to a door at the back right. Kisame, peering around with careful curiosity, looked over at the room opposite the one they were going to. The door was mostly shut, but he caught a brief flash of a bedroom, the huge bed piled high with pillows and comforters in dark blues and greens, the bed-curtains in that deep wine-like burgundy, and black carpet…but then Itachi had unlocked the door and Kisame followed him into the next room and lost the view.

They had entered what Kisame could only call a sorcerer's work room.

Shelves, bookshelves, and a variety of cabinets lined the walls, and three solid oak tables, evenly spaced, filled the middle of the floor. No tapestries here, though a few large scrolls were tacked up on the walls, apparently as references (several were in languages that Kisame couldn't even recognize, much less read).

It certainly followed the rumored pattern of sorcerer's workshops in that every available surface seemed to be covered with something: papers, quills, bottles and phials full of brightly colored liquids, bubbling pots of unidentifiable substances, open books with heavily marked pages, and boxes stuffed full of yet more strange objects. On a second glance, there did appear to be some method to the madness; it wasn't so much that the room was chaotic as there was a lot of stuff in it.

It was also very brightly lit – which certainly did not follow the rumors. Of course the fact that the lights themselves were much cleaner and brighter than any torch or candle, and did not have visible sources of fuel spoke volumes about who the owner of such a room must be – only magic could produce such lights. Kisame supposed it made sense, though – much easier to read and see what you're doing in a well-lit room, as opposed to the dark, shadow-filled cellars and attics of rumor.

Looking back to his guide, he found the prince beckoning him over to the farthest table from the door. He eased carefully into the room and around the other tables, coming to stand at the shorter man's side.

The first thing to catch his attention was the huge broadsword that occupied the table. The blade alone was easily six feet long, and of good-quality steel, if he was any judge. The hilt added another foot and a half, and was capped off by a simple pommel stone that held a small, purplish-blue stone which glinted and sparkled in the light.

"It's impressive," Kisame said admiringly. "Though perhaps a bit big for you, Highness."

"Indeed. However, the experiment I am performing was easier on a larger blade. Hence, I am in need of your assistance." Intent dark eyes moved back to meet his blue-grey ones. "Please lift it, and tell me how it feels."

Kisame, a bit uncertain about the idea of an "experiment," reached over and grasped the hilt carefully, lifting the sword one-handed until he was holding it parallel to the table top. It was heavy, but not too heavy, and well-balanced. He could wield it in battle with a little practice…

And then it…_tugged_ on him.

It wasn't a physical tug. Both the sword and his arm stayed exactly where they had been, but something had been pulled…something inside him?

"What was _that_?" He quickly (but carefully) lowered the sword back to the table and backed away, watching it.

"How did it feel?" The sorcerer seemed quite calm, still watching him intently.

"It- It _pulled_ at me. But not…not physically pulled."

"Ah!" Sounding pleased, Itachi moved to the table and bent over an open scroll, snatching up a quill to scribble something down. He straightened, and pinned Kisame with an even more intense look. "Pick it up again."

"Your Highness…" He couldn't refuse a direct order, but he wasn't happy with that idea.

"Pick it up, Sir Hoshigaki. You will not be harmed, I promise."

Strangely enough, that reassured him, so he took a deep breath and went back to the strange blade. There was another tug, smaller this time, when he picked it up, but after that nothing.

"Another tug, but now it feels normal," he reported dutifully.

"Hm. Now, hold still." The prince came and wrapped his hands (much smaller than Kisame's, with long, elegant fingers) around Kisame's hand and the hilt, muttered a few words in an odd, spidery tongue…

…and abruptly, Kisame could _feel_ the sword, feel it as if it were an extension of his arm…and he could feel Itachi's presence through it, even though the other man had backed away…and could even, distantly, feel the presences of the large group of people he knew to be gathered in the hall downstairs….

"What the- What did you **_do_**, Highness!"

"War is brewing, Sir Hoshigaki, you know that."

He did. King Orochimaru, of the kingdom next to theirs, had ever been ambitious. He had conquered all of the other lands bordering his, and theirs was now the only one left.

Itachi was going on. "It will be a bad one if we do not increase our strength and fighting power. We are in need of better weapons, and His Majesty has asked me to look into the matter." The crown prince gestured at the sword that Kisame was still clutching tightly. "This technique, if I can perfect it, will do much towards increasing our chances."

"But what _is_ it, Highness?"

"You are now connected to the sword, as I'm sure you can feel. It will allow you to wield it better, to have it feel as though it is an extension of yourself."

Kisame nodded slowly, backed away from the table and carefully swung the giant blade in short, controlled strokes. It felt…good. Right.

"Highness, pardon me, but – you are either brilliant or insane, and I am honestly not sure which," Kisame said, his natural bluntness reasserting itself with a vengeance.

The corners of Itachi's pale, thin lips tilted up slightly, and his dark eyes brightened perceptibly. "Well, we shall hope it is the former then, shall we?"

Kisame stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then threw his head back in helpless laughter. "All right, Highness, we shall."

He lifted the sword then, to run his free hand over the blade in expert examination. "So, I'm now connected to it…why does that allow me to feel your…presence?"

When he did not receive an answer, the knight glanced up to find the sorcerer's dark eyes fixed rather oddly to the hand he was using to smooth across the steel (which was as good a quality as he had suspected). "Highness?"

Itachi started and snapped his eyes up to Kisame's face. "Pardon, Sir Hoshigaki?" His voice sounded tense.

"I wanted to know why I can feel the…presences of people through the sword." Was the shorter man a bit flushed?

The prince turned away to make a brief note on his scroll. "The thing you are feeling is the life-energy of the people around you. With practice, you will be able to identify people individually and even know where they are (within a certain range) even during battle." He looked up, face composed again. "And, in the case of an enemy, it should allow you to draw that life-energy out."

Kisame's eyes widened at the implications of that. Killing someone by sucking the life out of them…he winced a bit, but took a deep breath and looked at it from the standpoint of defending the kingdom. It would certainly be a useful weapon – if only for the intimidation factor when the enemy eventually realized what was going on. And really, if he was in the middle of a battle, did it matter too much _how_ the enemy died?

"Are there different…levels of that? I assume that I can control _who_ it takes energy from – can I also decide how much?"

The prince seemed pleased with his question, and nodded. "In theory, you should be able to take energy, as much or little as you choose, from whoever is within the range of the sword's – and now your – senses. However, I have not been able to test that theory yet, as I did not wish to bind myself to this particular blade. That is another thing that I ask your input on once you have tried it." He sighed. "Hopefully I shall be able to work with smaller blades now that I have had practice, and that should greatly increase the usefulness of it, since there are few in the kingdom who can wield a sword of that size."

Kisame nodded, then with a last bit of scrutiny, set the sword back on the table. "I'll need a sheath to go with it, if you wish me to carry it to battle."

"Of course. I have one ordered from the tanner and leather-maker, actually." Itachi had bent over his scroll to make one last note, then straightened and gestured towards the door. Kisame was quick to follow him, as intriguing as some of the objects and experiments might be. Perhaps he could get used to the idea of sorcery with time, but right now he'd had enough of it for one day.

Back out in the sitting room, Kisame hesitated briefly. He did not want to go back down to the party, but those were his orders if Itachi didn't need him for anything else.

"Would you like a glass of wine, Sir Hoshigaki?"

Kisame turned, startled that the prince had sensed his desire to stay. He bowed. "That would be appreciated, Your Highness."

The dark-eyed man nodded and went to a small cupboard tucked between two bookcases. "Please seat yourself, Sir Hoshigaki."

"Oh. Thank you, Highness." Kisame lowered himself gratefully onto one of the armchairs.

"Drink, sir knight. I forget that one's first exposure to magic can be unsettling." Itachi handed him a full glass of wine, ruby-red in the firelight, which Kisame accepted gratefully.

"'Unsettling' is a good word, Highness. However," the knight took a large sip, "'interesting' also comes to mind."

That got him a startled look from Itachi, who had gone to stand by the fire with his own wine. He blinked dark eyes once, then turned thoughtful and nodded slowly. "I have always thought so."

They were silent for a few moments, and Kisame gazed into the fire, sipping his wine absently. A question occurred to him, and he looked up only to find the other man staring at him again.

He met the dark eyes directly, and was even more confused when the prince quickly looked away to the dancing flames.

"Pardon if I'm prying, Highness, but why did you choose me for this experiment? Surely one of the other knights…?" Not knowing what else to do, Kisame went on with his original question.

The sorcerer was silent for a moment, gazing at the fire. At last he answered quietly, "Aside from the fact that you are one of the few men who is capable of both lifting and wielding that sword…I thought that you were also the most likely to be open to the idea of magic in general. You are calm, loyal, and one of the more stable knights in His Majesty's service. You are comfortable enough with yourself to try something like this. Also, your handling of your particular squire shows that you have the potential to be a good leader, a skill you may or may not need, but which is always good to have."

Kisame blinked slightly wide eyes, both at what was the longest speech he had ever heard from the crown prince in any context, and at the praise.

His next thought was to wonder how long Itachi had been watching him.

Their eyes met briefly, before the shorter man seemed to realize that he had said too much and turned away, free hand clenching into a fist at his side.

And abruptly, Kisame understood.

Itachi wanted him.

His next surprise was at how quickly the flashing memories of a small, simple bed, long blond hair and bright green eyes were replaced with images of that big, dark-curtained bed, silky raven hair and deep, _hot_ onyx eyes-

He avoided gasping over the mixed sensations by taking a gulp of wine. When he had it under control, he took a deep breath and looked up.

"Your Highness…"

His realization must have shown on his face, because Itachi turned his head mostly away and refused to look at him. It might have been a trick of the firelight that made his pale cheeks seem flushed, but Kisame didn't think so.

"Your Highness-"

"I beg you pardon, Sir Hoshigaki," the prince interrupted him through clenched teeth. "That is inappropriate of me."

"Your Highness-"

"I would appreciate your continued help with this experiment, if only for the good of the kingdom."

"Your Highness-"

"I should not, however, require your presence much more, except for a few reports of how the sword works in battle-!"

"Your Highness!" In exasperation, Kisame had risen and grabbed Itachi's shoulders, forcing the other man to face him. The onyx eyes had gone very wide, so he eased his grip but didn't back away. "Your Highness, listen, please."

Itachi blinked at him, eyes still wide, and stayed still.

"Highness," Kisame went on, earnest and quiet, "it does not offend me. I am afraid that now is…not the best time for me-" Itachi flinched at this and tried to look away, but Kisame shook him gently and wouldn't let him. "However, if you wouldn't mind waiting for a little bit longer…it is only the timing that is bad. The offer itself is…not unwelcome."

Itachi had gone still again, and was looking up at him, hope beginning to show in his eyes. "You – you mean that, Sir Hoshigaki?"

"I don't say things I don't mean, Highness. And the name's Kisame, if you like."

"Kisame…"

The knight leaned down and kissed the shorter man gently. He couldn't give more than that now, but hopefully soon… "Consider that my word, Highness."

"Itachi," the other man whispered, voice husky. "My name is Itachi."

"As you will – Itachi."

Kisame gave him one last kiss, then stepped away and bowed. "Thank you, Your Highness, for everything. I'd best be getting back."

"Of course," Itachi murmured, sitting down rather abruptly in one of the armchairs. "But I will see you again soon?"

"Your Highness enjoy chess, I believe?" Kisame grinned at the affirmative nod. "I don't believe I'll be doing anything else tomorrow evening. Shall I come up after supper?"

"Yes. Please."

Kisame smiled again at the eager firmness in the prince's voice and bowed again. "Tomorrow night, then."

He left, and headed back down to the party in a much better mood.

The world might love a tragic story, Kisame thought, taking his place in front of the pillar again. But personally, he preferred happy endings. Life tended to be much more interesting that way.

* * *

AN: So. Yeah. Crack. XD Hope you enjoyed! 


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